summary: you and the rest of the team go out to a club per tony's request. there, you all get completely wasted, save for a certain blond haired, blue eyed super-soldier.

word count: 2580

trigger warnings: alcohol and hijinks. 'nuff said.

"Jesus Christ, what happened last night?" You mumbled tiredly.

You looked around you at the destroyed room. You had woken up stretched across Steve's lap on a sofa in the common area of the Avengers tower, but that wasn't the weird part. The weird part was the fact that you could see Tony curled up on the dining table, a house plant clutched to his chest, and Thor lying face down in a pile of chocolate syrup on the kitchen floor. Natasha was asleep on the sofa directly across from you, and oddly enough, she was wearing a giant fedora. You could also see the edge of Bucky's head, poking out from beneath the coffee table in the middle of the room. The weirdest part of it all, though, was the fact that Bruce was attached to one of the giant ceiling-to-floor windows with pink duck tape.

You tried to sit up, but then you saw Clint. He was leaning up against the sofa, holding onto your foot like his life depended on it as he slept. You tried to shake him off, to kick him, even, but nothing worked. You were stuck. All of your movement must have woken Steve, because he suddenly sat up, rubbing his eyes and running a hand through his disheveled blond hair.

"Good morning, (Y/N)" Steve said rather loudly, causing you to clutch your head in agony.

"Shh, shh," you groaned as you leaned back against Steve's chest. "Inside voices, please."

Steve chuckled quietly and began absentmindedly stroking your hair. "Do you have any idea what happened last night?"

You tried to rack your brains and come up with a memory or two, but it only made your head hurt more. The last thing you remembered was being dragged to an upscale club by Tony, the other Avengers in tow, and drinking and dancing like there was no tomorrow...

"I might have had a drink or two... Or twenty." You confessed sheepishly.

Steve laughed again. "Since you obviously don't remember anything, I guess I'll have to start from the beginning. So, you and Natasha had just ordered another round of vodka..."

You had never been this wasted in your entire life. Tony had convinced you- and the rest of the team- to accompany him to a new, upscale club downtown, where he promised that you'd have the "time of your life."

And oh, were you ever. After taking a couple shots, you were already hammered. You were notorious for being a lightweight, and often the first to get drunk at parties. Steve and Bucky- both being super-soldiers who couldn't get drunk- often took turns babysitting you, as you often made reckless and stupid decisions while intoxicated.

Tonight was no different. Steve was currently on babysitting duty, and already he had ruined your fun by not letting some tall, handsome stranger take you to a darkened corner of the club. You pouted for a few minutes, but then Natasha offered up another round of shots, and you perked up rather quickly. You followed the curvy redhead to the bar, where she flirted with the bartender until he agreed to give you a round of shots on the house.

You were constantly amazed by Natasha's ability to get whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted, just by using her sex appeal and a few sugar-coated words. You'd never been able to take control of a situation like she did, and in all honesty, you were a little jealous of your best friend. Yes, you thought yourself to be attractive and yes, you'd had several boyfriends in the past, but you couldn't work a room the way Natasha did. Instead of batting eyelashes and pouting lips, you would end up with runny mascara and awkward stammers.

You mused over this as you stumbled back to the private room that Tony had rented. You flopped down on the couch next to Steve, who looked extremely pissed off. You vaguely thought that it probably had something to do with the man who was flirting with you earlier, but that thought quickly disappeared. Now, you only had one mission: Operation Get Steve to Lighten Up.

And so, doing something you had never attempted before, you decided to put your so-called sex appeal to use. You scooted closer on the black leather couch to Steve, laying your hand on his arm to get his attention. Steve looked down at you as he took a sip of beer, and using a move you'd seen Natasha use countless times, you fluttered your eyelashes at him and smiled coyly.

Steve nearly choked on his drink.

"Hey- Um," he coughed. "What's up, (Y/N)?"

You laughed softly and began slowly running your hand up Steve's arm. "Nothing much, Steve. Though I am a little put out that you wouldn't let me have my fun earlier," you paused and leaned in close to Steve's ear. "That guy sure looked like he could show me a good time."

Steve's eyes looked like they were about to bulge out of his head and he was blushing like crazy."(Y/N)? Are you okay? You're not acting like yourself."

You pouted and moved away from Steve slightly. "That's not very nice, is it?"

Steve now looked worried, like he thought he had actually offended you. He hurriedly wrapped an arm around your shoulder and pulled you in for a quick hug, planting a kiss on your forehead. "You know, (Y/N), you're adorable," Steve flushed. "And drunk. Very, very drunk."

You crinkled your nose and pulled out of Steve's embrace. He looked significantly less pissed off now, and was staring at you with a goofy grin on his face. You couldn't help but smile back at him, now giggling hysterically. So much for sex appeal.

"Up for another one?" Clint said suddenly, coming up and sitting down on Steve's other side.

You nodded eagerly and moved to take the beer Clint was offering you, but Steve grabbed your hand.

"Not so fast, (Y/N). I think it's time we cut you off."

You let out a snort. "Cut me off? I'm perfectly fine, Cap. Do I need to do one of those straight-line walking tests? Because I could totally do that. Like, I could even do it with my eyes closed."

You stood up and began to perform a very botched version of the field sobriety test, wobbling and running into Steve's legs. With a small, "Oomph" you fell into his lap, your head too close to his crotch for comfort.

"Damn, (Y/N), Steve! Save it for the bedroom, you two." Tony chuckled and winked at you.

You only grinned back and lifted yourself back into a sitting position. You were now sitting on your knees very close to Steve's face, and you could tell that he was trying to look anywhere but your lips. You licked your lips in what you hoped was a seductive manner, and leaned across Steve, taking advantage of his momentary distraction to grab the beer out of Clint's hands.

"Thank you very much!" You chirped, taking a long drink from the bottle.

Steve only rolled his eyes and shook his head at you, grabbing a drink of his own. He raised his glass to yours in a toast, and you clinked your bottles together.

"To a night of loosening up and having fun," you smirked.

"To a night of loosening up and having fun." Steve repeated with a small smile, nodding his head at you.

The rest of the night passed in a similar fashion, with you rotating back and forth between curling up against Steve and letting Bucky pull you onto the dance floor. You would throw your head back and laugh, your (H/C) curls bouncing and your eyes bright with happiness. Steve looked on as Bucky spun you around the room again and again, a dark expression crossing his face

"Why do we have to go home?" You whined, letting Steve pull you by the arm out the front doors of the club. "I was having so much fun!"

"Yeah, why do we have to go home?" Tony echoed.

He was stumbling a few feet in front of you with Thor- who'd been sipping on Asgardian liquor all night, proclaiming that mortals had a weak taste in alcohol- and Clint. Natasha was holding her high heels in her hand and a martini that she'd managed to sneak out the door in the other, and Bucky had mysteriously disappeared several hours earlier with a curvy brunette. Bruce was walking a few paces behind Natasha, hands in his pockets as he swayed back and forth, humming some pop song in an off-key voice.

Your feet were killing you at this point, even though you'd already followed Natasha's initiative and slipped off your tall silver pumps. All you wanted was to find a nice patch of sidewalk, curl up, and go to sleep, but Steve insisted that you make it back to the tower, first. You all had decided to walk, given that the tower was only a few blocks away, but now that seemed like a very, very bad idea.

Just then, a brilliant idea hit you. "Hey, Steve?" you said sweetly. He stared at you, weary that you were going to start flirting with him again. "Can you do me a huge favor?"

Steve stopped in the middle of the street and stared at you suspiciously. "And that is-?"

You held out your arms to him. "Give me a piggy ride, please. For I'm a poor, distraught damsel or whatever, and I would be ever so grateful if you, a dashing man of the golden age of chivalry, would carry me-"

Steve rolled his eyes, but nevertheless bent down so you could hop on his back. You let out a small squeal before wrapping your arms and legs around Steve's back and resting your head on top of his. He stood back up, and he hurried to catch up with the rest of the group. You heard Natasha mutter something about you receiving unfair treatment, but you ignored it, because Steve smelled so good, and his hair was so soft, and the muscles in his back were so defined...

You realized with a start that you'd arrived at the Avengers Tower. Steve softly set you down, but he continued to hold your hand as he led the way inside of the building. The elevator ride was chaotic, to say the least. Tony loudly proclaimed that you all were going to keep the party going in the lounge, and to this Natasha had thrown her now-empty martini glass into the air, causing small glass shards to fly everywhere. Steve then proceeded to lecture you all, but he was quickly drowned out by the sound of Thor and Bruce beginning a belching contest.

As soon as the elevator doors opened, you, Clint, and Tony made a beeline for the bar. Tony was a pretty good mixologist, and he began preparing drinks immediately. You took a long drink from a Sex on the Beach, savoring the delicious flavor.

You wandered around the room for several moments, chatting with your friends and trying to avoid knocking into furniture. It was harder than it looked, to say the least. You winded up again on the sofa with Steve. For some reason, you couldn't stop looking at him. The strong line of his jaw, his gorgeous cerulean eyes, the way his lips formed your name... What the hell was happening to you?

It was just the alcohol, you assured yourself. It was the alcohol, and the way Steve's eyes lit up when they met yours, and how nicely his blue dress shirt hugged his figure. It was because of all of these things that your heart fluttered every time Steve's arm brushed against yours, or he laughed particularly hard at one of your bad jokes. You didn't have feelings for him; Steve was one of your best friends. You couldn't.

But damn, right now, you wanted nothing more than to have Steve Rogers' lips on yours, and his fingers in your hair, and possible in a few other places...

"Why the hell not," you muttered, and without waiting for your drunk conscience to kick in, you leaned over and kissed Steve full on the mouth.

You could tell that Steve was startled by your forward action, but after a few seconds, he responded and leaned in to your kiss. It was short-lived, though, as Steve almost immediately pushed himself away from you.

"(Y/N), we can't. You're drunk, and I won't take advantage of you like that." Steve sighed, looking everywhere but your eyes.

You rolled your eyes at Steve. "It's not taking advantage if I want it." You reasoned.

Steve smiled at you, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. He took your hand in his and kissed it softly. "In the morning, if you still want this, let me know."

"Fucking hell," you groaned as the memories of last night came flooding back to you. "I'm such an idiot- No, screw that. I'm an embarrassment to society. God, Steve, I'm so sorry."

Steve only chuckled. "You were drunk off your ass last night, (Y/N). I don't hold any of that against you."

You offered him an awkward smile before looking around the room at your friends. "So... What the hell happened here?"

Steve sighed. "Do you want the long version or the short one?"

"Short, please."

"Okay, so basically, Natasha stole that fedora off of some guy on the street. Tony was trying to make a Pina Colada, but his blender broke and in his despair he passed out holding a pineapple. Thor was thirsty, so he decided to drink some chocolate syrup, and we can see how that ended..." Steve trailed off and shuddered. "Clint bet Bruce that he couldn't down more shots of whiskey in a minute than he could, and when Bruce lost, the penalty was that Clint was allowed to duck tape him to the wall. Bucky got home a few hours after you crashed with a girl and said something about the coffee table being safe and warm, and that's when I fell asleep." Steve summarized, shaking his head as he recounted the antics of his friends.

You laughed quietly, wincing when your head began throbbing again. You knew that you had to address what had happened with Steve last night, and your new-found feelings for him, but you didn't know how. After all, he was one of your best friends. You didn't want to lose that.

"So, about last night..." Steve had already beaten you to the punch. "Did you mean what you said? That you... Wanted me?"

You blushed almost as bright of a red as Steve and squeezed your eyes shut, nodding slowly. You were afraid to open your eyes, knowing that Steve would most likely be staring at you with pity, or worse, laughing. So, you were surprised when a pair of lips descended upon yours, placing a feather-soft kiss before retreating just as quickly.

Your eyes flew open in surprise, and you were shocked to see Steve grinning at you. "I like you, (Y/N), a lot."

You opened your mouth to respond, but someone else was shouting. Bucky, who had woken a few minutes prior and shuffled to the bathroom, now appeared in the lounge, a panicked expression on his face.

"Guys, there's some random brunette chick passed out in the bathtub!"